


What If

by hollycomb



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dry Humping, First Love, M/M, Making Out, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/pseuds/hollycomb
Summary: Ben Solo fails his driver's license exam, runs away from Han and ends up in Hux's lair.





	What If

**Author's Note:**

> Ben and Hux are the same age in this AU (sixteen).
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> ~

There’s a whiff of autumn in the air, though it’s only the start of August and still hot enough to make Ben sweat under his t-shirt while he stands with his back to the baking brick exterior of the DMV. He tries to take comfort in the hint of leaf deadness on the wind and the way the late afternoon light has mellowed, as if it means something different is coming. Really it just means that school starts in three weeks and soon he’ll run out of time to have some kind of significant supernatural experience prior to Halloween, which is the ideal time to have them. This year no one will share his disappointment when midnight trips to the little graveyard on Davis Road or quiet creeps at dusk through Poe’s grandmother’s attic don’t yield anything ghostly. No one but Ben is interested in that shit anymore, with the exception of Rey, who tends to wilt in the absence of hard evidence. Which is not the point. 

Han pulls up fifteen minutes late and has a big, stupid smile on his face, because he’s sure that Ben passed his driver’s license test. 

“I didn’t,” Ben says, hurling himself into the passenger seat without looking at his father’s expression again. It’s insulting. Also typical. 

“Didn’t what?” Han peels away from the testing center, staring at Ben instead of the road. 

“Pass! I didn’t pass.” 

“What-- How?” 

There’s no judgment in Han’s tone yet, just disbelief. Sixteen years and he still can’t accept the fact that he got with the girl of his dreams only to engender a dud.

“She said I was going too fast when we pulled onto--” Ben gestures angrily at the road they’re driving down. “Whatever this one is called.”

“Whatever-- What? Huh? Too fast? But we practiced this. You were always going too slow.” 

“Yeah, well. You yelled at me so much about it that I fucked up and went too fast. Anyway, it’s over.” 

“Watch your mouth. Are you serious? They said you failed? They used that word?”

“It’s pass or fail, jesus! I didn’t fucking misinterpret.” 

“What’d I just say about the mouth?” Han drags his hand over his own lips, squinting at the windshield like he’s trying to come up with some way to con the DMV into rethinking their assessment of Ben’s driving skills. “Was the person who gave you the test a jerk?” he asks. “Somebody having a bad day?”

 _I’m the one having a bad fucking day_ , Ben thinks. He glares out the passenger side window, his heartbeat reaching dangerous speeds as he bites his bottom lip and tries to keep from blowing up. He’s really only mad at himself. He failed that fucking test. That simpleton shit, he couldn’t even do it. His mother will roll her eyes and sigh and ask how soon they can reschedule. She’s tired of driving him around. She’ll make Poe take him next time. _Your father made you nervous, didn’t he?_ As if Poe won’t.

“Hey.” Han jabs his shoulder, harder than necessary. Ben’s tooth digs deeper into his bottom lip. “Did you hear me?” 

“Hear _what_? Yeah, the guy who gave the test was an asshole. What do you want to do, go back and give him a hard time? Jesus! What does it matter? You can’t do whatever you want.” 

“Who’s talking about doing whatever they want? I’m trying to sympathize here.” 

Ben snarls at the idea of his father’s sympathy. Must suck to be such a loser, poor kid, not sure what I did wrong. That’s sympathy from Han. Tinged with embarrassment. 

“Just forget it. It’s over.” 

“Over, huh? So you’ll never drive a car? Don’t be so dramatic, we’ll try again--” 

“We? What the fuck ‘we’? I’m the one who screwed up, you can’t take over for me next time and drive for me, as much as you’d like that--” 

“Jesus, kid, calm down! I only meant I’d give you a ride again. Unless you want to practice more--” 

“I don’t!” 

Ben throws the car door open as soon as they come to a stop at a red light. He’s going full-on lunatic over nothing, he knows that, but once he’s set on this course there’s no going back, and Han is well-fucking-aware that the lethal combination of _don’t be so dramatic_ and _calm down_ makes him lose the last of his shit.

“Hey!” Han says, shouting through the open window after Ben has slammed the passenger side door. “What the hell are you doing? Get back here!”

“I don’t need a ride! Just leave me alone, it’s fine!”

Ben takes off running, darting through the tall weeds on the side of the road and into a scraggly wooded stretch between neighborhoods. They’re not that far from home. Not far from Leia’s house, anyway. Ben doesn’t consider Han’s place near the city to be home, though that’s where Ben’s dog lives now. 

Once he’s far enough from the road that he’s confident Han hasn’t abandoned the car to pursue him on foot, Ben stops and looks back at the path he’s beat through the woods. He’s really sweating now, and was during the driving test, too. He can smell himself. Despite this, he wants company. 

He sends Hux a text:

_Are you at the apartment or the mansion?_

Hux doesn’t respond. Ben cuts through the nearby neighborhoods and makes his way along the road that runs by the golf course, which is looking haggard under the full blast of the summer sun. There’s only one small group of guys out on the extra crispy green: chubby and balding in late middle-age, from this distance they might as well all be Hux’s dad. Since the mansion is closer, Ben tries there first. 

Mitaka answers the massive front door. Ben scowls at him, and Mitaka makes no attempt to conceal his mutual distaste. Nobody who is employed as a manservant by the likes of Brendol Hux should cast judgment upon anyone, but Mitaka has never approved of Ben’s presence in the mansion. As if he’s qualified to pick Hux’s friends.

“Is Hux here?” Ben asks. 

“Which one.” 

“The only one of them I ever want to see.” 

“Armitage is in the middle of his homework. Is he expecting you?”

“Just get out of my way,” Ben says, as calmly as possible, which is not very. He knows he shouldn’t like it when Mitaka flinches. Mitaka is a small guy in his late twenties or early thirties; who can tell. There was a time when he was taller than Ben, but that time is long past, and Ben has about forty pounds on him now, too. 

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” Mitaka says, backing into the foyer when Ben crowds the doorway and moves past him.

“No need,” Ben says. “I texted him. I’ll just go up. Thanks.” 

The _thanks_ was as passive aggressive as possible, but that’s better than aggressive-aggressive. Ben suspects his fist will end up in Mitaka’s face someday. He doesn’t like the thought. Violence comes over him like a flesh-eating virus, stripping away everything but the rage, including all thoughts of past and future relations with whoever ends up in the line of fire. He’s been threatened with medication. For now he’s subjected to personalized yoga sessions with his uncle twice a week. It’s not really helping.

He thunders into Hux’s room without knocking and sees that Hux didn’t ignore his text message purely for the sake of being an asshole. He’s in his nest, ringed by pillows on the bed and giving Ben a humorless stare from within the circle of light that the desklamp on his bedside table projects into the otherwise lightless room, shades pulled and overheads turned off. There are no cell phones, tablets or laptops allowed inside the nest. Nor is Ben allowed in there. Only books, paper, and pens are permitted entry. 

“What,” Hux says when Ben shuts the door behind him and stands there in the cool, shadowy relief of Hux’s lair. He still feels smelly, also like a failure, but he’s glad he came. 

“Nothing.” Ben shrugs. “What are you doing?”

“The hell does it look like. What happened to you?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Did you run here?”

“No. It’s just hot out.” 

Hux sighs and looks down at whatever book he’s working from. Ben does a circle around the room, pretending to study some of the artwork on the walls and a few things on Hux’s massive antique drafting desk before walking over to the bed. 

“What are you studying?”

“The usual,” Hux says. He’s got a giant architecture book open in his lap, notes and practice schematics scattered around him on delicate paper. He’s obsessed. Ben thinks it’s cool, not like the mundane bullshit that everyone else is interested in, but Ben has been hopeless for thinking everything Hux does is cool since they were eight, when Hux moved here from England and had that accent and that hair and everything else that doomed Ben to worship him. 

“Want to hear something stupid?” Ben asks. 

“I guess.” 

“I flunked my driver’s test.” Ben grins when Hux looks up at him in what might be surprise. It’s hard to tell, with Hux. “So, that happened. I shouldn’t have let my dad give me lessons. A fucking retired stock racer, right. Great idea. They said I was going too fast.” 

“You were trying to race? During your exam?”

Ben scowls. “No. That’s not what I said. I just accelerated too fast. God, who cares, anyway? People act like this shit’s so fucking important. When are you taking your test?”

Hux sniffs. “Brendol’s not going to let me have a car.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ben says, as if it makes sense to him, the metric by which Brendol doles out Hux’s paltry gifts and freedoms. “Well, you could still get your license.” 

“If he’ll sign the permission slip or whatever. Which he won’t.”

“I bet Maratelle would sign it for you.” 

Hux snarls down his architecture book. “She’s not my mother.”

“I didn’t say she was, but she’s married to your dad.” 

Hux doesn’t dignify that with a response. Ben sits down with his back to Hux’s bed, only partially sorry that he’s said the wrong thing. Riling Hux up is good fun, even if it involves a subject as sensitive as his stepmother. Ben doesn’t understand why Hux hates her, beyond some kind of childish loyalty to his dead mom that precludes liking anyone else Brendol gets with. Maratelle is young and pretty and always in a good mood. Hux says Ben only likes her because they’re both spoiled brats. As if Hux doesn’t live part time in a mansion. He was poor until he was ten, so he thinks he’s a saint.

“Anyway,” Ben mutters, because waiting for Hux to crack first during a verbal standoff is a losing game. “It’s funny, I guess. If my dad was still famous maybe it would be, like. A news story.”

Hux snorts. “You failing your driving test?”

“Yeah. Never mind. Forget it.” 

Ben stews in angry silence for a while, listening to Hux turn pages in his book and shuffle his drafting paper around. Something about Hux diffuses Ben’s rages, but not necessarily in a good way. Whereas everyone else has the ability to piss Ben off until he’s foaming at the mouth, Hux’s icy non-reactions just make him feel like a weepy sad sack half the time. This discrepancy is probably due to the fact that he’s been beating off to thoughts of Hux for years now. Three years ago Hux kissed him, but it wasn’t romantic. Ben had asked Hux if he’d had his first kiss yet, already edging toward hoping he’d be the one to get it. 

“I don’t care about kissing,” Hux said, as if he’d been asked about the politics of a small foreign country. 

“So no, then,” Ben said.

“What does it matter to you?”

“I care about kissing.” 

“Well, you’re an idiot, so of course you do.” 

They’d been lying on their backs in the grass on the big hill that overlooks the community footpath, where they sometimes still sit and glower miserably down at passerby. Ben sat up on his elbow and turned his glower on at Hux, because back then he would occasionally pretend that Hux was about to get his ass kicked for doing things like calling him an idiot, though they both knew it wasn’t going to happen. Hux smirked up at Ben as if this was the reaction he’d hoped for, lifted his face and gave Ben a dry peck on the lips before dropping down again, looking pleased with himself.

“Ha,” Hux said when Ben gaped at him, so shocked that he had to wonder if he’d somehow only imagined that. “I just took your first kiss. You’ll never get it back. How do you like that?”

Ben liked it very much, but he didn’t know what to do next. He assumed he’d figure it out at some point in the days that followed, and that Hux would immediately become his boyfriend once he had, but waiting didn’t yield any great ideas about what his next move should be, and then it seemed like he’d waited too long. Now three years have gone by without another kiss from Hux or anybody else.

“Fuck,” Ben says when his phone starts blowing up in his pocket. “That’ll be my mom. She’ll blame him, but also me.” 

“Him?”

“Han.”

“Oh. Well, don’t answer.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re in the nest.” 

Hux laughs a little under his breath, or anyway Ben thinks he hears something that might have been a laugh. Making Hux laugh usually feels like being crowned king of the world, but today it doesn’t even lift his spirits. Maybe that was just a sigh. Probably Hux just wishes he’d leave. Ben tips his head back against Hux’s mattress and closes his eyes, letting his phone buzz against his thigh, untouched. 

He feels Hux shifting and for a moment thinks a pillow has flopped onto his head. Then Hux’s fingers slide into his hair and scratch fondly at his scalp, like Ben is his pet. Which he kind of is. 

Ben goes perfectly still. Hux has done this before, but rarely. Lately it’s becoming more of a thing. It calms Ben down in a way that Luke and Ben’s parents would envy, if they knew about it. Works every time, and Hux employs it as if he’s doing Ben a favor, being mature and keeping things in order, but it still feels so good. 

“Anyway,” Ben says when Hux’s hand has stopped moving but is still resting over the top of his head, like he actually wants to keep Ben in place and not get rid of him. “Now I can’t drive you around. Not until I retake the test, anyway. It’s stupid-- I wasn’t going that fast.” 

“Mitaka can drive me around.”

Ben scoffs and glares at the closed bedroom door, imagining Mitaka out there in the hallway with his ear to the door, spying on them. “That fucking creep?”

“He’s not a creep. He’s more like family to me than Brendol and the bimbo.” 

“You should tell him that. I think he might be in love with you.”

“That’s disgusting!” Hux rips his hand away, yanking it back into the nest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. God, gross.” 

“Sorry.” Ben swallows down the urge to say _I’m just projecting_. Hux knows that, anyway. He must know Ben loves him, jerks off to him, wants to be his manservant. Hux is smart. He knew he could kiss Ben, that day. 

“You just hate him because he doesn’t like you,” Hux says. He still sounds huffy but not really mad. Ben likes riling him up, but not when he needs Hux to act like an actual friend and be on his side for five minutes, like now. 

“Goddammit,” Ben mutters, because his phone is ringing again. “I’m gonna be in so much shit when I get home.”

“For flunking a driving test?”

“No, well-- I also, uh. Got out of the car at an intersection and ran off.” 

“Ran off, what-- From the _test_?”

“No! From Han, when he was like, baffled by how this could happen.” 

“That man almost died three times while driving a car in a circle, and driving was his job. He can hardly stand in judgment.” 

Ben smiles, though the memory of those crashes still makes his heart skitter. Hux is so fucking cold. Actually having a dead parent allows for this. “Yeah,” Ben says. He takes his phone out and declines Leia’s call. “No kidding.” 

“They’ll go easy on you like they always do,” Hux says, muttering. “I wouldn’t worry.” 

“It’s not easy, with them. Just because they’re not sadists.” 

“Brendol’s not even creative enough to be a proper sadist.” 

“True.” 

“Having a sadistic bent toward me would also require him to remember I’m alive more than once every few weeks or when I ask for something. Do you want to come up here?”

“I-- What?”

“I said come here, I want to show you something.” 

“Into the nest?”

“Yes, genius. I don’t feel like moving.” 

Ben has to wonder if this is some kind of joke at his expense. The nest is sacred. It’s also Hux’s bed. Ben stands, trying to act cool, not wanting to blow this like he did with that kiss. If it’s even a thing that can be blown. The ability to tell is hard enough anyway, and Hux’s impossible to read demeanor makes it some expert-level shit. 

“Shoes off,” Hux says. He looks a little flushed, but it might just be a trick of the light. “Pants, too,” he says. 

“Pants?” Ben guffaws uncoolly, toeing off his shoes. 

“Yes.” Hux looks back to the book in his lap. “I’m not wearing pants, after all.” 

Ben cranes his neck and sees that Hux is indeed in his boxers, though most of his lap and thighs are concealed by a combination of pillows and books. Not wanting to hesitate in case this is some real miracle that’s actually happening, Ben shoves his jeans off like he’s been given a time limit and stumbles out of them. In the pocket, his phone is ringing again. 

“Should I leave my socks on?” Ben asks, trying to subtly adjust his boxers so his bulge doesn’t look too obvious. Though maybe it should?

“You’re impossible, do you know that?” Hux says, glaring at him. 

“What?”

“Yes, take your sweaty socks off! I don’t want them in my bed.”

Ben still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that Hux wants the rest of him in there, though he’s not really sweaty now, just a little ripe. If he’d had any inkling that this would ever happen, let alone today, he would have gone home and showered first. As it is, he climbs over the outer wall of Hux’s nest in an imperfect state, stepping over Hux himself and wedging himself between the interior pillow wall and Hux’s bony elbow. The book in Hux’s lap is so big that some of it spills onto Ben’s thigh when he’s stretched out beside Hux. It’s a double bed, but with the border of pillows on all sides and Hux’s architecture paraphernalia spread out around them, they’re sitting close, backs propped against another mound of pillows. Hux smells like the almond milk lattes he makes himself daily, and also a little bit like his own sweat, which is cleaner and sweeter than Ben’s, always. Even when he’s drenched in it. 

“I was thinking about the game,” Hux says, moving his schematics over the pages of the architecture book. “And how Finn’s stupid foot soldier broke out of prison.” 

“I had to let him do that.” Ben is the moderator, also the inventor of Knights of Ren. “He needed a quest.” Finn would have quit playing with them already if he didn’t have an obvious crush on Rey, who only remains loyal to the game and to Ben because she’s family. 

“Never mind,” Hux mumbles. “Look, this is a new design for the Emperor’s enforcement device. I’m going to reference certain functions next time we play, so I wanted to make you familiar with them.” Hux shifts in place, his eyes on the design while Ben stares at him. “Since you’re the moderator,” he adds needlessly. 

“Cool,” Ben says, glancing down. Hux’s drawings are precise, his fantastical weaponry always based in real life mechanics. It’s not the kind of minutia Ben personally gets into, but he loves that Hux cares this much. He loves Hux, fucking loves him, but can’t be thinking about that right now, because Hux is glancing up from his papers, giving Ben a look like maybe he’s insulted by Ben’s lack of feedback. “I mean, like. This looks awesome-- That wing design? That’s incredible. What’d you base that on?” 

There’s an almost-smile at the corner of Hux’s mouth when he pulls another book into his lap, something about jets. He flips to a page that he marked with a sticky note and shows Ben his inspiration. Hux has really nice hands, Ben notes for the thousandth time. Pale and elegant like the rest of him. Ben has big clumsy mitts; he’s always knocking shit over. Driving too fast, etc.

“So you see,” Hux is saying, “Phasma’s monitoring station is here, and this tower represents you. Represents Kylo Ren, I mean.” 

“The moderator can’t be officially aligned with a playable character,” Ben says, teasing. Hux looks up at him with sincere annoyance. Ben laughs; Hux shoves him. “But you know I totally am. On your side. Kylo is, I mean. On the Emperor’s.” It’s their secret from the rest of the players. Unfair, of course, but they both like playing villains. 

“I do know what it’s like,” Hux says, smoothing one finger down over the curling edge of his schematic. “Not being good at what your parent was once known for. I can’t bake, I’ve tried. It should be easy, but it just eludes me.” 

“I can’t envision you baking,” Ben says, though he can and he is: flour on Hux’s cheek, sugar at the corner of his lips. “Did you do it here at the mansion?” 

“Of course not. Rae has my mother’s old cookbooks and notes and things at the apartment. And anyway I’d catch hell from Brendol if he saw me trying to be-- Like her, whatever. I know he hopes I’m going to turn out like him, and the shit thing is that I think I am. I’m not good at making things. Not real things, I mean.” 

Hux scowls down at his drawings. He’s obviously in some kind of weird, rare mood. Hence the invitation into the nest. Ben shuffles a quarter of an inch closer to him. 

“You’re not like Brendol,” he says. 

“I’m better at manipulating people than inspiring them or pleasing them.” 

“Who wants to please people? Fuck people. Anyway, you please me.” 

Hux snorts. “No, I don’t.” He’s still worrying at the edge of his schematic drawing, avoiding Ben’s stare. 

“You can’t tell me that you don’t please me. I’m the one who decides that.” 

“You’re just saying that because I’m your only friend. Anyway I don’t _care_ about pleasing people, of course I don’t, but I’m just-- I’m more like him than her. So he accomplished that, by kidnapping me into his shit life.” 

Ben dares another slight nudge in Hux’s direction and slides his forearm toward Hux’s side, just short of touching him. Hux grew up with his mother, who was never married to Brendol. At some point Rae came into the picture, and she and Hux’s mother were never married either, but only because it wasn’t legal back then. They moved to the states when Hux was eight because there was a doctor here trying some new treatment, a failed last ditch effort to try to save Hux’s mother. Ben never met her, though she was alive for a year after Hux moved here. Ben was barely friends with Hux back then, still just admiring him from afar. Hux didn’t really talk to anyone for about two years after arriving in Ben’s world, which was part of why Ben adored him. Ben is always saying too much, too loud, confessing everything before considering that he probably shouldn’t. Hux’s emotions have always been so well-ordered, even when his mother was dying. He’s never cracked.

“Stop feeling sorry for me,” Hux says. “You’re settling it over me like a film, I can feel it.” 

“Like a film,” Ben says, imitating Hux’s snotty tone more than his accent. Hux jabs him with an elbow, then leaves his arm sort of settled onto Ben’s side. Ben’s heart has been pounding since he climbed into the nest, pantsless. He hates this feeling of not knowing how the hell to proceed, like this is another test he’s about to fail, something he didn’t study for. His legs feel too long and gangly, his hands too big, breath too loud. 

“It’s just as well I’m like Brendol,” Hux says, mumbling. “People like him get what they want. Look at this place. He was penniless when I was born, you know?”

“Yes, you’ve told me.”

“Shut up.” 

“What’s with you?” Ben touches the edge of Hux’s schematic drawing and feels a thrill of uneasy heat move from his fingertips to the center of his chest, as if he’s touching a part of Hux. “Did Brendol do something?” 

“No, I haven’t seen him in days.”

“Maratelle?”

“Like I care what she does.” 

Ben waits for more, but Hux just closes the book in his lap, tucking his drawings neatly inside. 

“Mitaka told me you were up here doing homework,” Ben says. 

“What the hell? It’s summer.” 

“I know. I didn’t even think of that, when I was down there. I could have caught him in his lie.” 

“What a thrill that would have been,” Hux mutters, but he’s smiling a little now. He bends his knees and rests the book against his thighs. “Why would he say that?”

“Because he’s a freak, I told you.” 

“He’s not, shut up. You don’t know what it’s like. I wish I could just live with Rae all the time, but Brendol won’t let me. Too bad he didn’t have some other bastards he could feel possessive of after their mothers died. Just me.” 

Ben supposes Hux is just having a day where he particularly misses his mother. If Leia were gone-- Ben has thought about it. He used to spend afternoons wishing he was an orphan when he was younger and more dramatic, looking at old pictures of his grandfather and feeling as if his destiny had skipped a generation. But if Leia was gone, or even Han, he’d be okay until he wasn’t, until he needed something from them and they weren’t there anymore to give it when he came crawling back, apologizing. 

“So this is what it’s like inside the nest,” Ben says when they’ve been quiet too long. 

Hux laughs, but it’s not a real Hux laugh. It’s a kind of sad one, like it doesn’t really have much to do with what Ben just said.

“Is it everything you dreamed it would be?”

“Yes,” Ben says, maybe too hotly, or seriously, because Hux gives him a startled, nervous look. 

“Brendol wants to move back to the UK,” Hux says, blurting this just as Ben gathers the resolve to lean in for what might have been a kiss.

“What?” Ben sits up, panic stripping through him. “He can’t!” 

“I know. I won’t go with him. He can’t make me. But then again maybe he can.” 

“How-- What, no, okay, this is stupid. He can’t pull you out of-- And what about Maratelle’s show?”

“It’s just got canceled, and she’s the only reason he ever stayed here. Now he’s grumbling about how it’s a seller’s market and he should go back and do this or that business venture over there, or maybe he should try Australia--”

“He’s just blowing hot air,” Ben says, lying back on the pillows again. His heart is slamming. Losing Hux would be like having a limb hacked off, then bleeding to death from the untended wound. “He won’t actually do it. I thought-- You scared me, don’t do that.” 

“He might do it! And he’s driving me mad with his threats. Maratelle doesn’t want to move either, or we’d already be gone. But she’s dependant on him now that her attempt to be an actress has come to nothing. And you know he won’t give me a cent for college if I even suggest staying here with Rae if he goes.” 

“Fuck him.” Ben feels the rage building, wanting to go somewhere. Strangely, it’s making his burning need to lie on top of Hux and kiss him stronger, too. “It won’t happen.” 

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“You’re going to stop Brendol moving away? Do you have some mind control powers I don’t know about?” 

Somehow this gives Ben the push he’s been needing for three years. As if to demonstrate that, yes, he does have incredible powers that Hux doesn’t know about, he rolls onto Hux with a confidence that comes from nowhere, grabs the collar of Hux’s shirt and tugs him up for a kiss on the mouth. Hux gasps, which emboldens Ben to lick him, and they both groan when their tongues touch. Hux’s arms go around Ben’s neck and it’s on, finally happening, for real this time, they’re over the cliff and falling together. Only when Ben foolishly allows this celebratory thought does he freeze up and pull back to check Hux’s face, which is blazing. 

“No one’s taking you away from me,” Ben says, growling this out like a prophecy. 

“Oh, Kylo,” Hux says, smirking. “You’ll make me hard with that talk.” 

Though Hux is certainly making fun of him, this also seems like an invitation for further kissing, so Ben gets on with it, licking past Hux’s parted lips again. Hux tastes incredible, like a sex latte, and Ben considers shifting so that his rapidly stiffening dick isn’t pressed to Hux’s leg, then decides to leave it there, to let him feel it. 

“Your designs,” Ben says when he hears draft paper crinkling. Ruining them while making out would sully this otherwise perfect moment. 

“Yes,” Hux says, breathing this onto Ben’s lips like it’s a dirty word, his voice deep and his eyes muggy. “This was my design, brilliant, you’ve figured me out, I asked you to take your pants off and get into my bed because I want you, it was this or outright wagging my arse in your face--”

“No, I meant-- Your drawings, they’re getting wrecked.” 

“Oh my god, they’re fine, please-- Don’t stop.” 

Hearing _don’t stop_ from Hux while lying top of him basically sets Ben on fire. He clamps his thighs around Hux’s hips and kisses him deeper, probably a little clumsily. Hux is clinging to him and kissing back like he’s desperate for more, his mouth getting so wet for everything Ben is doing. 

“You’re heavy,” Hux says, twitching his hips up. 

“Sorry, I’ll--”

“No! Stay right there. I like it.”

Ben moans and lets his weight drop down, grinning against Hux’s mouth when he feels that Hux is hard, too. He’s rubbing himself shamelessly against the downward press of Ben’s answering enthusiasm, his breath coming fast now. Every time Ben pulls back to gaze at Hux with delirious glee Hux’s pupils look fatter, his cheeks redder.

“You’re blushing so much,” Ben says. 

“You’re talking so much.” 

“You like my voice.” 

“I don’t,” Hux says, smiling in his eyes. He’s got one hand tangled in the back of Ben’s hair and he’s pulling a little. It feels good; everything feels good right now. 

“You said I was making you hard.” 

“That was a joke! Your mouth is making me hard, not your voice.”

“This mouth?” Ben lowers his lips to Hux’s neck and licks him once there, grinning when he hears Hux’s breath catch. He licks again, sucks at the soft skin just under Hux’s jaw, bites it gently and then more firmly when Hux whines and humps up against him for the feeling. 

“Yeah,” Hux says, his voice soft and cracked, and for a second Ben is afraid he’ll come just from that. 

“Oh god,” Ben says, lifting his face. “We could have been doing this the whole time.”

“I tried. You wouldn’t kiss me back.” 

“You were laughing at me! I thought it was a prank.”

“Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t a smooth communicator when I was thirteen.”

“Hux,” Ben says, so helplessly that he might as well have blurted _I love you_. He kisses Hux again before that mood-killer can come tumbling out, and rolls his hips in a way that makes them both groan. 

“Shh!” Hux says. He pets Ben’s hair and grins, bites his bottom lip. 

“You’re louder than me.” The thought that Hux might actually get loud and unrestrained during sex: Ben is going to faint. His dick is pounding harder than his heart, feels like.

“You have the fattest fucking lips,” Hux says, and he brings two fingertips up to press against the bottom one. “Do you remember freshman year, when Dormitz called you a cocksucker?”

“Yeah.” Ben had punched Dormitz just before that. He also punched him afterward.

“Well, I’ve thought about that a great deal. Over the years.”

Ben snorts. He hopes Hux doesn’t think he’s ready to do that right this minute. Maybe he is? No, he’s definitely not. 

“I always want to touch this when you blush,” Ben says. He moves his thumb slowly over the red flush that’s spread across Hux’s cheek. “Hot,” he says, confirming his suspicions. 

“I can’t believe I had to literally tell you to undress and get into my bed,” Hux says. “Then again, yes I can.” 

“You’re not exactly easy to read.” 

“My face gets red every time I even think about sex. I’m too easy to read, if anything.” 

“Liar, you know what you’re like. How often do you think about sex?” 

“Get me off and maybe I’ll tell you.” 

Ben accomplishes this in a dizzying blur of hip grinding and wet-mouthed kissing that finishes him off as well. Hux’s noises are perfect, soft and astonished and even better than Ben’s many, many fantasies: little _ah_ ’s and _oh_ ’s and then he’s just shivering in Ben’s arms, tightening up all over before dropping boneless beneath him, still kissing him. 

“You said my name,” Hux says, red-faced and breathless, his hair all messed up. Ben has never seen him looking bashful before, never thought he would. 

“Did I? When?”

“When you-- ah! Just now. You, like, finished, right?” 

“Yeah, that was the part when I moaned your name, I guess.”

Hux snorts and rolls over, scooting himself into little spoon position against Ben’s chest. Ben has dreamed about this part just as often as the rest of it: he holds Hux close, kisses his marked-up neck, curls his knees in behind Hux’s. For about five trembling minutes it takes every ounce of strength Ben has in him to hold in a gut-busting love confession that feels like it’ll explode inside him if he doesn’t say it a thousand times out loud, as if it would even be new information. Hux completely owns him now, and he clearly knows it: he can’t stop smiling, eyes closed while Ben kisses his hot cheek. 

“I’m gonna kiss you here every time you blush now,” Ben says. 

“That’ll go over great for both of us.”

Ben notes that this is not a denial that Hux would like that, too. “How about I just kill Brendol?” 

Hux laughs, for real this time, eyes still closed. “That’s perfect pillow talk, I expected no less from you.” 

“He’s not really, seriously talking about moving, right?” 

“I may have been exaggerating that somewhat for dramatic effect.” 

“You fucker, why?”

“Because it seemed like maybe you were going to kiss me, and then like you were losing your nerve. I told you, I’m good at manipulating people.” 

“Don’t waste your energy manipulating me, just tell me what you want. You know I’ll do anything.” 

“Well, I know now.” 

Ben closes his teeth around Hux’s earlobe and does a sort of growl thing that he hopes sounds sexy and not idiotic. Hux sighs and presses his ass back against Ben’s thighs more snugly, probably a good sign.

“Can I join you in the nest all the time now?” Ben asks when Hux reaches for one of his books, props it against the pillows and seems to plan to read while Ben serves as part of his cushioning fortress, which is just fine with Ben. He’s never been this comfortable in his life.

“Not all the time,” Hux says, turning a page. “But sometimes, yes.” 

Ben figures that means Hux is his boyfriend. It occurs to him that he might actually be allowed to reach up under Hux’s t-shirt and touch his stomach, where he has some very fine red hair just under his belly button, a feature Ben has been obsessed with since freshman year. He works his hand up under Hux’s shirt in increments while Hux reads, tickling his fingertips beneath the hem and then brushing his thumb over those soft hairs and the even softer skin around them. Hux squirms a little but doesn’t protest, even when Ben slips his hand up higher, higher, heart pounding and dick re-hardening as he aims for one of the stiff little nipples that are poking up under Hux’s shirt, calling to his fingers--

There’s a loud, hard knock on the door, and they both spring upward, Ben’s hand jerking free from Hux’s shirt. 

“Armie?” Mitaka calls. “Ready for dinner?” 

“Yes!” Hux shouts back. “Coming!” 

“Why’d you say yes?” Ben whispers. 

“I don’t know.” Hux’s eyes are wide. “I panicked. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Ben kisses him, amazed that doing so, even after all that, still makes him feel like a nervous trespasser, and then so fucking good when Hux opens for his tongue and closes his eyes, melting into it. “I should go anyway,” Ben mutters. “Need to do damage control with my mom so she doesn’t ground me. I’d have to run away from home if they tried to keep me from seeing you tomorrow. And every day. I need you, Hux, okay? You can’t move away, ever. I need you.” 

“I know.” Hux cups Ben’s cheek, pets him. “Let’s put our pants on. I feel like he’s out there waiting.” 

Mitaka is indeed in the hallway when they exit the room, pretending to be preoccupied by his phone. Hux goes downstairs without looking at him and gives Ben only a parting touch on the shoulder when they reach the foyer, because Mitaka has followed them down. 

“Good luck with your mother,” Hux says. There’s something so sad about that, coming from him. Ben wants to sweep Hux into his arms again, but Mitaka is watching, and Hux will be okay. He’s tough. 

Ben is too happy to be bothered by the prospect of his mother’s judgment or even Mitaka’s hovering. He turns back on the front walk and lifts his hand in a wave while Mitaka lingers alone in the doorway, apparently determined to make sure Ben is fully leaving the property. 

“Hey, Mitaka,” Ben says, close to skipping into the manicured lawn with glee. “You’re okay, man.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Have a great night! See you tomorrow.” 

Ben jogs across the lawn, beaming around at the world in general. Everything feels solved. Hux wants him-- He actually said so, out loud. _Because I want you_. And it’s bigger than that, even. Hux needs him, too. He’ll never say it, but Ben felt it. Hux likes being held; he wasn’t merely tolerating it for Ben’s sake. He was clingy, almost cuddly. It’s the best news in the fucking world, it’s everything. Ben feels like he could do a standing flip or just take off into the goddamn air, he’s weightless, he’s invincible, running along the side of the road like a fool, not caring who sees.

Until he spots his mother’s car heading toward him, anyway. 

He thinks about running away, then feels stupid for even considering it and stands in place on the side of the road while she pulls up, looking murderous. 

“Get in,” she says. 

“How’d you know where I was?”

“I tracked your phone when you wouldn’t answer. Hux’s house was going to be my first guess anyway. Get in the car, now.” 

“I guess Dad called you,” Ben says, opening the passenger side door. 

“He did. What did he say that set you running? He wouldn’t tell me.” 

“Nothing, he just--”

“Put your seatbelt on.” 

Ben does so. He can’t shake his sense of giddy achievement even now, and almost wants to tell her: _Mom, I was in the nest and it was incredible_. 

“He was just being Han,” Ben says. Criticizing his father either wins her over easily or inspires a lecture about how Han _really tries_ , depending on her mood and how much Han has annoyed or wooed her in recent days. Leia’s expression is hard, her eyes focused on the road as they drive past the golf course and toward their more modest house, which isn’t technically a mansion, even if Hux says it qualifies. 

“I can’t believe they failed you,” Leia says. “Do you remember the name of the test administrator?”

“Dave.” 

“Huh. Dave. I’ll look into it.”

“Mom, no. It’s not a conspiracy against you.” 

“I have a lot of enemies in local government, Ben.” 

“Yeah, no shit, but--”

“And you wouldn’t believe how petty some of these people can be. Anyway, you’ll take the test again. Han was very hurt by your running away from him, you know.” 

“Oh, bullshit.” 

“He was. He kept insisting to me that he didn’t say anything horrible this time, that he was being supportive and understanding and you just took off anyway.” 

“I’ll apologize to him.” 

Leia looks over at Ben, eyebrows shooting up. “You will?” 

“Yeah, sure. He’s right, he didn’t do anything wrong.” 

The car comes to a hard stop at a traffic light and Leia looks over at him again, eyes narrowed. 

“Did Hux give you drugs?”

“No!” Yes! The best drug there is, what Hux gave him is still buzzing on his lips and his tongue and in his fingertips, also somewhere in the vicinity of his balls. But that’s not what she means. “Do I seem high to you?”

“You seem-- Something. And you just offered to apologize to your father.” 

“I was just pissed about failing the test, and Han was there, so I took it out on him.” 

“Well. That’s a very mature evaluation.” 

“Thanks. How was your day?”

“Okay, stop. Now you’re just trying to scare me on purpose.” 

The sun is setting dramatically and the clouds look pretty in contrast on the horizon. Ben puts his window down so he can hear the bugs singing in the weeds alongside the road while they drive toward the Mexican restaurant that’s the only place they can ever agree on for dinner. The staff knows them well. Leia was too irritated by Ben and busy with her work to arrange anything else for dinner, as is often the case. Ben likes it that way. In the moment, he even likes his mom. He always loves her, but liking her comes and goes. 

“Do I want to know the explanation for your good mood?” Leia asks when they’re seated at a table outside, under an umbrella and some fairy lights that are strung across the restaurant’s patio.

“It’s nothing.” Ben stuffs a handful of tortilla chips in his mouth. Leia goes on staring at him while he chews, scrutinizing. 

“Is it to do with Hux?” she asks. Everyone who’s ever been in the same room with the two of them knows that Ben has been drooling for Hux since puberty and even before that, really. He’s not a subtle person when it comes to his passions. 

“Hux is fine,” Ben says. “Maratelle’s show got canceled.” 

“That show was awful.” 

“I know.” 

Poor Maratelle. Leia doesn’t like her either. The fact that Maratelle married Brendol says it all, according to Leia. But Hux’s mother was charmed by him once, and she was amazing. Ben knows of her exploits as a talented if underemployed patisserie chef mostly from Rae. Hux doesn’t talk about her much, though maybe he will now that Ben is his boyfriend, available for comfort within the nest or elsewhere. 

“You want to know why I’m being so agreeable?” Ben says. 

“Why?” 

“Because Hux really misses his mom sometimes, like today. I’m glad you’re not dead, Mom.” 

“Oh, what a lovely sentiment. Thank you, Ben.” 

Leia grins and swats him with her menu. Ben wonders how long this requited love euphoria will last. Probably ten years or so. He pulls out his phone, hoping for a text from Hux. There’s nothing, and he considers composing one himself, then wonders if he should change his Facebook status to “in a relationship.” Hux doesn’t have a Facebook, so he wouldn’t protest. Or would he protest because he doesn’t have one? Anything attached to Ben’s real name is too complicated, anyway. He opens up Twitter instead. Only a few people know this account exists, Hux included, though Hux also doesn’t have a Twitter and probably never looks at Ben’s. 

_I just had sex and I’m about to eat NACHOS. It’s the greatest moment of my life._

Ben admires this tweet for a while after posting it. @masterknightren only has fourteen followers, and only @reyreyreyrey favorites the tweet, but he’s still pretty proud of it. He’s immortalized this feeling, which is new and something like: what if the future really _is_ bright?

 

**

**Author's Note:**

> ~~
> 
> Ben's tweet is a quote from [this movie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fg7Mcfun7yM), which is terrible, though this one line and AD's delivery are great. I also ended up taking the title of that movie for the title of this fic, though I didn't intend to!? It just worked out that way.


End file.
